


Falling Into Step

by MissKi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Olympics, Post-Haikyuu!! Chapter 402: Final Chapter: Challengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25695892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKi/pseuds/MissKi
Summary: “I loved you, you know. I knew what I signed up for.” Iwaizumi leaned back in his chair, posture light despite the heavy confession. “Know,” he corrected, “so there’s no reason to keep thinking about it. I could never have held it against you, especially now.”--Iwaizumi and Oikawa reunite at the Paris 2024 Olympics over coffee. Oikawa's priority of volleyball never changes, but as greedy as he is, he reaches for the other thing he desires: Iwaizumi. Oikawa's apology - not for leaving, but for hurting Iwaizumi - leads to a confession of love and a promise for the future.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 6
Kudos: 93





	Falling Into Step

Hajime Iwaizumi sat in an almost-empty Parisian café, squinting through the sun’s glare to frown at the reason why he had such an awful seat in the first place. ‘Iwa-chan, I’ll be taking the seat facing away from the sun,’ Tooru Oikawa had told him. And Iwaizumi had swapped seats without a word of complaint, because that was their new normal. He would never have given in to frivolous demands so easily back in their high school days, but then again, his friend would have been at least ten times more dramatic about the situation. He might have complained, ‘Iwa-chan, I can’t sit facing the sun or my delicate face will absorb all the UV rays! Think of what a waste of a beautiful face that would be, covered in a bunch of premature wrinkles!’ Iwaizumi’s frown grew a little deeper at his imaginary Oikawa. It was annoying, yes, but the real frustration is the reminder that he had yet to comfortably navigate his relationship with the real Oikawa, now that they had both done some growing up apart.

The both of them had grown up physically, shoulders broadening and frames filling out – regrettably Iwaizumi was still a little shorter – but their dynamic had changed. Iwaizumi was used to mothering a reckless Oikawa, but now they were both independent, proving that by traveling halfway around the world alone: Iwaizumi to North America and Oikawa to South America. As a result, their banter was off-beat, but just by a quarter-step, so it was fine. Good, even. Whether it was jeers and challenges on the volleyball court, quick conversations by the locker rooms, or simple meals together, Iwaizumi would take whatever he could get when it came to seeing his old partner.

“Iwa-chan, I’ve been wondering. Did you think we would actually make it here? Paris 2024?” Oikawa asked without preamble or pretense. Unusual, even for the ‘new Oikawa.’

“You mean back when we first graduated from Seijoh?” Iwaizumi dragged his wooden chair to the left to sit on the other man’s right, trying to avoid looking directly into the sunlight. 

“Yeah, around then. When you challenged me when we were walking home together from the ramen shop after our last game.”

Iwaizumi paused to think. It might have seemed silly to claim he was going to win next time on the court, considering that he already knew he wouldn’t be pursuing volleyball professionally. At the time he was desperate to prolong their connection, to make a promise for the future – anything. It worked out since he became a trainer for Japan’s national team and as such was able to metaphorically face-off against Oikawa on the court, but he hadn’t been thinking that far ahead on that quiet Miyagi evening.

“I knew you would make it here, but I wanted us to make it here.” Iwaizumi turned away for a moment to discuss their order with the approaching waitress, and when he turned back, it was to Oikawa’s intent stare. “What? I just ordered you your usual coffee, I didn’t order any food for you.”

“No, that’s fine.” Oikawa waved his hand to brush off the concern. “It’s just that… I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.”

“What, are you unsatisfied with beating Japan in the Olympics now? You regret not having a fancam of Ushijima’s face when we first lost to you? Here I was thinking your personality got a little better with your age.”

“I’m sorry for not considering you more when I left.” Iwaizumi stilled at the unexpected apology. “I didn’t make the most of our days left together. I didn’t want to think about it, what me leaving meant for you.”

“Hey, you realize what you’re saying is really shitty, right? I left, too.” Iwaizumi clenched his fists. “You’re acting like my life revolved around you.” It did, but he didn’t want to admit it out loud into the small space between them. It was something too vulnerable, too raw. Too shameful.

Oikawa’s brows drew together in contemplation. “But I think I hurt you, and that’s what I’m trying to apologize for. Not for leaving, but for hurting you when I left.”

Iwaizumi barked out a short, harsh laugh.

How could he possibly be hurt when the sun retreated beyond the horizon, taking its light with it? When the warmth of summer faded away, leaving the chill of fall in its place? One could not bask in the light and warmth of sun and summer forever. It was a fluctuating, temporary thing; one could only enjoy them while they lasted. Iwaizumi was good at living in the moment, experiencing it for what it was without expectation. He had to be, because as soon as he met his best friend at the ripe young age of five years old, he knew their friendship was on a timer.

Tooru Oikawa was unstoppable. 

Nothing could sway him from his dreams. No matter what price – how long he had to practice, what relationships he had to throw away – he would pay it. He was an awful mess of self-confidence and sneers, but underneath that veneer, he was realistic and genuine enough to realize how far away he was from achieving his dreams. Cursed with his ambition, he sacrificed everything he could to carve his path, pushed forward by an almost-debilitating fear of failure, of being outclassed by his peers.

Iwaizumi knew this like he knew how to receive a volleyball. Innately, instinctively, burned into his soul through years of practice. Years of taking Oikawa home from his midnight practices that ate into his health, grounding him when his anxiety about Tobio’s talent had him spinning out in circles, propped him up when self-doubt threatened to consume him completely. 

Iwaizumi was enthralled.

Oikawa burned so bright others couldn’t help their interest. The infamous gaggle of girls that flocked to Seijoh’s games weren’t his only admirers; while it hurt to watch for too long, knowing that his setter would go somewhere the spiker couldn’t follow, Iwaizumi could never bring himself to break the spell. It was never a choice to love his best friend. It was hard-wired into Iwaizumi, and no amount of time or distance could change it.

“I loved you, you know. I knew what I signed up for.” Iwaizumi leaned back in his chair, posture light despite the heavy confession. “Know,” he corrected, “so there’s no reason to keep thinking about it. I could never have held it against you, especially now.”

Oikawa said nothing, rendered speechless by his admission. For old times’ sake, Iwaizumi tried to guess what he was thinking despite his dismal record on accuracy that one day he served as Oikawa’s interpreter after he burned his mouth on spicy noodles.

“I didn’t say anything because you were a terrible boyfriend. Or did you not get that from getting dumped by every one of your girlfriends?” Iwaizumi laughed again, brighter and relaxed this time. Oikawa unfroze at the sound, but carried tension in his shoulders.

“As rude as ever, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa pouted.

“What? Don’t tell me it’s still a sore spot. I know you’ve had success in Argentina; I may not use social media, but Hinata uses it enough for the entire team. Catalina right?” 

“Ah, don’t be too jealous of me! Catalina and I only attended a few charity fundraisers together.” 

Iwaizumi could do this. Oikawa was happily living his dream, and he would watch on from the sidelines, cheering him on while pursuing his own career.

When they parted after coffee and chouquettes, a set of eight red crescents were emblazoned across Oikawa’s palms.

~~~

The quarterfinals game finished with a perfect toss from Oikawa to the Argentinian ace, ending the last set 15-12 against Japan. It wasn’t for a medal just yet, but this landed Argentina a place in the semifinals against Italy. The crowd’s cheers were deafening.

In the brief moment before being engulfed by his team and succumbing to the chaos, Oikawa searched the sidelines of the Japanese team and found his target. Iwaizumi stood there with crossed arms staring at him, imposing as ever - save for the slight quirk to his lips in a ghost of a smile. Oikawa sent an exaggerated wink his way before diving into his team’s celebration. Fondness bloomed in Iwaizumi’s chest, nestled between the bitterness from their loss and pride for his loved one. 

~~~

Their breakfast at a café the following day turned into brunch, as they both sported a headache from the night before.

“’Make it all the way to the end so next time we can say we defeated the gold medalists,’ is what the team wanted me to tell you.” Iwaizumi declared.

“Oh, how exciting. We’ll have to make time for drinks after my team wins the Olympics, then. I look forward to it.” Oikawa grinned. “And what do you want to tell me, now that you’ve passed on their message?”

Iwaizumi studied his cup of coffee intently. “You played well. By your movements, it’s clear you’re still taking good care of yourself.” Oikawa’s expression softened, tempered by affection.

“Thanks, Iwa-chan.”

“Make sure you’re still taking care of yourself when I see you at LA 2028, Trashykawa, or you won’t even give us a challenge.” 

“Is that the next time I’ll see you?” Curiosity piqued by Oikawa’s aggressive tone, Iwaizumi peered up. 

“I don’t have a crystal ball, so I don’t know what teams will pick me up in the meantime. We might come across each other before then at a tournament or something.”

There was a stilted pause in their conversation before Oikawa broke the silence. He leaned in and murmured a fervent request: “Come with me, Iwa-chan.” 

“Do you know what you’re asking?” Iwaizumi clutched his teacup, knuckles turning white. “Do you really, actually know what you’re asking of me, Oikawa?”

“Not now,” Oikawa hastily amended, “I don’t mean come with me now. I mean come visit me some time, and maybe I can visit you once in a while. Or we can meet up at a halfway point. Or go places together. Well, I guess what I really mean is that I won’t be an Olympic-level athlete forever, and I’ll have more time when I retire so I won’t be such a terrible boyfriend all the time. I know it isn’t really fair, asking you this. Oh, but I also won’t be such a terrible husband all the time, if you stay with me that long, because Argentina isn’t like Japan, and–“ Oikawa abruptly snapped his jaw shut to cut off his babbling and took deep breath before finishing. “Will you wait for – no, will you wait with me until then?”

The handle of Iwaizumi’s teacup broke under the strain, but neither of the pair moved. “Do you really… want this? …Me?” He looked lost as doubt and uncertainty weakened his voice.

“I always have, ever since we were young. I always will.” Oikawa reached out a hand to cover Iwaizumi’s, which was still clenching onto the pieces of the broken handle. “I’m a bastard for this, but I didn’t think I could have both you and volleyball. That it wouldn’t be fair. So I made my choice. But now… If you’re okay with it…”

“Turns out your personality actually gets worse with age. I don’t know what I was thinking a few days ago,” Iwaizumi wheezed out, chest tight.

“What can I say? You bring out the best in me; I always want to surpass your expectations.”

“Oikawa…”

“You don’t have to give me an answer now. I know I’m asking a lot. I always have though, haven’t I?” Oikawa brushed his thumb across Iwaizumi’s knuckles until they loosened, and Oikawa carefully picked out the pieces of the handle, focusing so as to not cut either one of them.

The tender gesture surprised Iwaizumi, and he flicked his gaze to study Oikawa. His face was open and straightforward for once, unguarded devotion clear in his relaxed brows and gentle smile. Iwaizumi’s heart beat faster, stronger. This was more than he had ever hoped for. The logistics would be difficult, considering Oikawa’s strict training and practice regimen, but there would be small breaks of time that – given a minor miracle – might line up with Iwaizumi’s. Long distance for most likely two more Olympic cycles – they were 30, volleyball athletes didn’t last past 40 – eight years of stolen moments, conflicting schedules, 12-hour time difference calls (assuming Iwaizumi stayed in Japan and the United States didn’t pick him up), all to eventually renounce his Japanese citizenship to legally marry his life partner in Argentina or some other country. 

Iwaizumi has never been able to truly say no to Oikawa. At least, not when it was something important. He might have helped him differently than Oikawa wanted him to, but when it came down to it, he was there for him through thick and thin. Rather, he has never wanted to say no to Oikawa, not when it mattered. This was no exception. It would always be worth every sacrifice and hardship. 

“Catalina’s going to be devastated.” Iwaizumi laced his fingers through Oikawa’s and smirked. “It only took thirteen years for you to break up with someone instead-”

Oikawa leaned over the table and interrupted him with a kiss. Oikawa’s lips were warm and pliant, but Iwaizumi jerked back almost instantly.

“You idiot, what are you doing?” Iwaizumi hissed under his breath.

“Iwa-chan, lighten up.” Oikawa snickered. “You’re like an old man! We’re not in Japan anymore, we’re in France. It’s not weird to do that here.” 

“I don’t care where we are, it’s rude to do that in public.”

“Are you embarrassed to be seen with me, the rising star setter of the Argentina team? How could you, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa mimed a swoon.

“I’m embarrassed for you, dumbass. Just finish your food already.”

“Oh? We have post-brunch plans?” Oikawa leered at Iwaizumi. Well, it was all-in or nothing. And Iwaizumi wasn’t one to hold back.

“Yeah, we do. So hurry up already before I leave you here to faint by yourself.”

“Wa- Wait a second, really? Hold on, let me just finish this canelé-“

“Why are you even eating that garbage for lunch? You had the quarterfinals yesterday and you have the semifinals tomorrow. Where is your protein? Complex carbs?”

And as easily as they separated, they reunited, falling back into their usual banter, perfectly synchronized. 

~~~

“Iwa-chan! Over here!” Oikawa shouted with glee, waving frantically from the arrivals pickup area.

Iwaizumi ducked his head and walked faster down the aisle, trying to get to him as fast as possible. He knew Oikawa would just continue to shout and cause a scene, so the quicker he got to him, the quicker it would be over.

“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, you’re here!” Oikawa squeezed Iwaizumi to his chest, enveloping him in his arms. “I’m so glad you came.” Iwaizumi relaxed into the bear hug and returned the gesture, feeling a sudden wave of loneliness hit him. He had worked to the bone to keep his mind occupied so he wouldn’t fret over the trip. It was their first meeting after that fateful week in Paris, nearly two months later. Argentina lost to Italy, but claimed bronze from Brazil. Oikawa was on a short break until training ramped up again for his volleyball league team, but Iwaizumi had physical therapy conferences that tied him up until now. The two of them had just three weeks together before Iwaizumi had to get on a plane back to Tokyo, and they would treasure every moment. He buried his face into his fiancé’s neck, kissing the necklace that held their engagement ring, their promise, their future.

“I’m home, Tooru.” 

“Welcome home, Hajime.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my first contribution to the Haikyu fandom! I adore these two, and I hope I didn't warp their personalities too much. I wish Oikawa had gotten something more in 402 (looking at you, Ushijima & Tendou, Nekoma gathering, Bokuto & Akaashi, etc.), but can I really complain that much if Oikawa returned as a boss fight on the world stage? Oikawa's character is ~ flavorful ~ and he's one of my favorites.


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